To See With Eyes Unclouded
by Alba Aulbath
Summary: After Namine's first arrival, the Organization's first six members decide to research memories on the neophytes with varying results. [preKH2, preCoM]
1. unclouded eyes

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:**  
Don't own Kingdom Hearts. Never did, never will.

I figured it was about time I started to post this little... mini-series here. I've taken a lot of thought to it; it's a series about, primarily, Organization memebers VII-XII, a look into their backgrounds, and how they came into the Organization, and an attempt to comprehend their functions. It's also a pleasant project for me to explore possibilities, and characters I rarely write. Also, many other series are used as part of the continuity; hints are made, but never spoken explicitly. It's not required to understand these worlds, however, to get the effect of the story.

Enjoy!

---

**to see with eyes unclouded**

**appt. 1: **unclouded eyes

---

When Namine arrived, suspicions were aroused. There were studies and there still are, and gradually even conclusions were met and determined. In the hallways while the first six members were evaluating, there'd been theories among the remaining members. Who was the girl? Why did she seem like such an odd Nobody?

"When you think of it," Luxord had said, while he lounged and waited much more patiently than the others, "we're all very strange, Nobodies or not."

It had inspired a bark of laughter from Axel.

In his silence as he stirred his tea, Saix had disagreed. None of them were particularly strange. Strange was considered exotic. If they were all strange, then they were all the same.

Thus, normal.

Yet, they were hardly that.

Saix still disagrees.

It was stated, later, by someone -- Saix can't quite think of who -- that Namine was a witch, and he heard Larxene laugh unkindly at the term and watched her shake his head.

Apparently, the girl inspired research in senior members of the Organization. A meeting was made and so were decisions. Memories were, they determined, links to the heart. Further research could prove useful in their attaining of Kingdom Hearts. And so it was, the Superior placed himself and the remaining "original" five in charge of learning about their other members.

If memories were so important, then lingering hearts might be called upon.

Xemnas took charge of researching Axel; VIII was more likely to listen to the Organization's leader than anyone else, really. Demyx was assigned under Xigbar, as the pair had already formed an odd comradeship some years ago when the musician first arrived. It'd be fairly easy for the gunner to pull out what he needed. For his patience and incapability of being pushed to any limits, Xaldin took Larxene. Similarly, Lexaeus decided he ought to take Marluxia. Used to games and complications with it, Zexion accepted his responsibilities with Luxord.

In the end, Saix found himself in Vexen's laboratory. He was positive that if he had a heart, he'd be severely furious with the turn of events. In reality, Saix mentally grumbled and let it go.

On the lab table, he sits, his patience being tried as he's poked and prodded and made to leave his jacket off. It's severely uncomfortable, though Saix expects nothing less. Vexen is analytical and though he treats this experiment like it's a terrible punishment and that Saix is nothing more than a burden, he doesn't stop making a mental map of the berserker.

The scars on Saix's face are more than a little difficult to ignore, and the rest of his body is much the same. Though VII feels some anxiety of being stared at, he doesn't show it, even when Vexen seems to make it necessary to trace over every little scar. Most of them are clean, straight, all by blades of some kind no doubt. No surgical scars, all of them suggesting swords and maybe arrowheads had marred the tissue once long ago.

There's silence, save for Vexen's scribbling into his notes, muttering some remarks that Saix doesn't care to listen to.

Suddenly, at his back, he's poked. Saix doesn't jump, but it takes his attention; he scowls.

"What's this?" Vexen demands, his voice sharp and impatient like his jabbing finger.

The berserker turns his head, tilting it just so to stare in the general direction of what Vexen is indicating. "What is what?"

"_This_." Another abrupt poke, and Saix is unamused. "This is the first scar I've seen on you made by a _bullet_."

Saix tells him nothing.

---

Rumors hound the halls of the castle as experiments go on. However much is shared to members I to VI from the remaining numbers, it's not said. Pry and interrogate as they do, the first six are wise enough to keep it confidential for the most part.

It doesn't mean that rumors still don't exist.

Some of the others are off on missions in between the research times, some of them remain to gossip. Saix is loathe to listen, but he stands by the doorway at any rate; breaking away from Vexen's laboratory is a relief, he supposes, and he will take what he can get.

Axel is reclined, feet on the table. "So I don't know about _you _guys, but I've heard some things."

"Of course you have, _sweetie_." The nickname Larxene uses is a harsh emphasis, a play; she smiles, suggesting she'd love to hear more as she turns pages in her book.

"_Darling_, don't tell me you haven't heard." Axel's tone is the mockey of surprise, the back of his hand pressing against his forehead.

Marluxia is, naturally, the third member of the table, sitting more elegantly than his companions, stirring his tea gently. "If you feel such need to discuss, I have heard that IX was a merman in a former life."

"I heard he was a siren." Larxene's grin somehow manages to be more malicious.

"I tell you one thing, he was anything that wasn't a rock star. What kind of rock star uses a sitar, anyway?" Axel smirks, shaking his head.

"I've heard X was a pirate."

"_Xigbar _is a pirate."

Marluxia sighs. "Eyepatches don't make a man a pirate, VIII."

"But you know what he pillages every night." Larxene's smile is positively wicked.

"_Honey_, how lewd." Axel grins.

"What about VII?" Larxene ponders.

Saix scowls; they speak as if he's not at the doorway, and they certainly know he's there.

"I heard," Axel motions his finger around his temple, a 'he's loco' motion, "he's a werewolf."

It only takes one. The diviner moves, hauling Axel up by his hood, turning him around to pin him against the wall. "Talk all you want, VIII," Saix hisses. "But that is the last thing you'll _ever _suggest."

Maybe he feels threatened. VII doubts it, the way Axel is grinning at him. "Oh no, you're not _offended_, are you?"

Saix is prepared to fight, verbally or physical, but it's the sound of note scratching some feet behind him that makes him freeze. He looks over his shoulder, glowering at Vexen.

The scientist does not look up.

Saix shoves Axel again before turning around to exit into a portal.

He knows he'd have stormed away if he was capable of feeling anger.

---

_"This is just like when he had to leave." Her voice was mournful, shaking her head as they worked to bury the remains._

_He sighed. So she hadn't given up hope. "Kaya, you don't truly expect that he's even still alive, do you?"_

_"Not even a demon could kill him. You know that."_

_"I am simply trying to be realistic. This is the second demon who has come to us, the second due to that strange iron ball. We were lucky no one was killed today."_

_"Ashitaka is alive."_

_He growled softly. "Even if he was, he will not come back to us. He cannot. He is dead to us, remember?"_

_He knew she mourned. But he knew to let go first._

---

"What did you look like before the Darkness swallowed your heart?"

The questions are definitely like an interrogation. Saix is tenser than he likes, but he keeps his appearance calm. The exterior is important. Always, always the key to the hunt is to be sure nothing can smell your intentions -- and that isn't limited to fears.

The person he remembers being is a little shorter, but just as firm, just as much as the hunter he is now, muscles used to wielding a blade better than a bow and arrow. Saix remembers a pair of dark eyes and pitch black hair in a tight bun, simple clothes, and a fairly simple life that had been cut in by demons and gods from time to time.

"Different than I do now; simple."

Vexen's lip curls, annoyed by the non-detailed response. Saix doesn't intend to give him anything more than that for the afternoon.

Saix listens to the pen scratching paper, but the scientist isn't stopping his questions.

"Why a claymore?"

"Why a shield?"

The frustration in Vexen's face is clear, but furious red hasn't blushed across his face yet in anger -- or whatever he pretends to feel out of habit. "These experiments are meant to further our cause. You would do well to behave yourself and properly answer, VII."

"I think you're wrong."

The smile that forms on the Chilly Academic's face is almost like a twisted hybrid of a sneer, nothing particularly nice about it. "Then you're also disagreeing with your Superior; I hope you know that."

The verbal jab strikes, and Saix rolls it off his shoulders. It's not something he wants to admit to. "I suppose I am," he agrees hesitantly.

Vexen sits up from being hunched over his notebook, raising his brow curiously. "Do tell me, why you think these experiments are unnecessary. Do you think they're too _personal_? It's not the life you have anymore, there's really no sense in it."

"I know that. Which is why it's necessary to disconnect ourselves from the people we remember." Saix lifts his brow. "Which I believe you tend to forget."

The sneer blooms over the smile, and Vexen keeps his eyes to his notes. "What was your original name?"

"The Superior did not tell you?" That, Saix finds, is interesting.

"Your _name_, VII." Vexen avoids the question vehemently.

The berserker places his elbow to the lab table, leaning to the side faintly as he looks elsewhere.

---

_"Do you understand what has happened to you?"_

_His name was Xemnas, such a very unusual name -- but he thought very little of it. He stared up at him, eyes wide, observing the dark-skinned man best he could._

_"Yes," he whispered, more than he could emphasize. "Yes, I do."_

_"I believe you."_

_He shut his eyes._

_"What is your name?"_

_What he meant to roll off his tongue was not what came out, the pronounciation off. "Ais."_

---

"So you lied."

Vexen is eating this up; Saix is unamused.

"I didn't lie to him," the berserker mutters, sinking in his seat a little. "It wasn't... exactly right. The way I started to pronounce things since I abandoned the world I remember became different after I spent time in other places."

---

_"Aizu!"_

_He looked up sharply, frowning. "Kaya."_

_"Aizu, what're you doing out here again?"_

_It was the grave they dug days ago for the demon they had slain. Aizu was sitting before it, eyes narrowed, fingers curled tightly as he stared at the mound._

_"What do you think... the kind of pain Prince Ashitaka went through? What do you think it was like?" Aizu mumbled._

_"I can't imagine..." Kaya's expression softened immediately, as it always did whenever someone mentioned their lost prince. "It must have been horrible. I remember when I saw the markings -- I could smell it, rotting. It was so... so dark. Evil, I guess."_

_"I see. Perhaps, he suffers like these two gods, unless he has found his answer," Aizu said quietly. "Kaya, you still miss him terribly. Why don't you go after him?"_

_"Idiot." She smiled at him. "The village needs all of us. You know that, especially after this last demon."_

_"Yes. I suppose the village needs us."_

_Aizu rubbed his arm, as if it was sore._

---

"What was your world like?"

They aren't in the lab anymore.

It's the fourth day -- as if time ever truly passes in the World That Never Was -- and Saix in his own room. Unfortunately, Vexen takes it upon himself to drag on the experiment. VII expects nothing less by now.

Saix sighs, as if exhausted. He continues to sharpen a blade that is not his claymore. It's old, likely to break, better off as a visual, and as much as he claims they should disconnect themselves from memories he can never quite let go.

"Chaotic. Primitive, mostly." Which is why he always fairs better as the warrior, knowledge of things not so technical. Electronics and theories and experiments are unfamiliar territory.

Notes are being scribbled, of course.

Saix wipes down the blade.

"How did you lose your heart to Darkness?"

His hand slips, his thumb cut at the edge of the blade. Immediately, he sticks it in his mouth, frowning.

---

_"Kaya, what happened to him?!"_

_"I... I don't know-- gods, I didn't, he didn't say anything!"_

_"Those marks are just like--"_

_"Get him inside! Just don't touch his skin!"_

---

"Anger and hate devoured him, and he died," Saix says quietly, not letting himself wince while Vexen sanitizes his cut. It's an excuse to stay, VII expects, so the experiment can carry on.

"Usually," Vexen mutters as he dabs the thumb, "a heart is lost due to a Heartless. You lost to yourself, and yet you have the will to maintain the body you do now?"

"The Heartless in the world I remember were a bit different."

The Chilly Academic peers at him, not quite letting go of his hand, as if just touching his fellow Nobody will give him knowledge through osmosis. "So a Heartless claimed your heart?"

Saix scowls a little, more expression than he typically prefers to show. "Yes."

"But anger and hate also devoured you."

"Yes."

---

_He woke, gasping, his chest aching, like it was on fire. Quickly, he pressed his hand over his heart--_

_His heart. Beating too quickly. Yet he felt like something... something was missing._

_Slowly, he sat up, staring all around him. This... all this, this was the fields outside his village. Gradually, he forced himself to his feet, wobbling, unsteady. Smells burned in his nose, his eyes watering from the bright sun, and he heard the crackling of fire._

_He turned around. Half the village was decimated._

_What happened?_

_"You! Stranger!"_

_Aizu turned, frowning. Stranger? "...Jiisan?"_

_The old man was startled. "It can't be-- Aizu?! But you're..."_

_"I can't remember... what happened?" Aizu tried to approach him, but the old man backed away, raising his bow and arrow._

_"You're not human now, are you? If you could only look at yourself!"_

_His feet froze. He was sure, he'd feel fear. Anger. Annoyance. At best, he felt confused, and only dully so. Aizu frowned slowly, touching the hair that hung by the sides of his head._

_A startling blue, no longer black._

---

He practices.

A claymore is far less elegant than what his other self was used to. Still, it's an effective weapon; Saix knows, he's always preferred blades to arrows and bullets, but he still takes steps away from the memories that haunt his very alive, very attentive mind.

So he's always, always practiced the claymore since he's chosen it.

He's not shocked to see that Vexen is, of course, watching him.

"Why a claymore?"

Saix gradually stops, letting the weapon disappear from his hand in a soft moonglow. "Because it's still a sword, at least, if more chaotic."

Vexen only nods.

And snaps his notebook shut.


	2. safeguard

**Disclaimers and Useless/Useful Stuff to Know:**  
Don't own Kingdom Hearts. Never did, never will.

---

**to see with eyes unclouded**

**appt. 2: **safeguard

---

Research is difficult with very plain words and very little details.

For all that Vexen has written, he hasn't actually gotten anywhere. Words on pages tell him nothing, and from day to day, his subject is unwilling to share. He answers stiffly with a blank face and allows physical measurements, mappings, and details. He _deals _with it, like a burden, because he's been asked to. That isn't terribly shocking, though as much as Vexen is Vexen, he sees little reason why Saix seals his privacy as tightly as he does.

A claymore, Saix says, is a blade but chaotic. It implies then that VII knows the way of swords in detail, yet a claymore -- giant and clumsy, damaging and dangerous -- is his choice.

A shield, Vexen determines, keeps everything away and is far more important than wildly slashing at your opponents.

The berserker is out on a mission for the moment. Vexen hardly knows any details of that matter either, but it doesn't strike him as important. For now, he sits, trying to connect what he knows.

Or rather, what he _doesn't _know, beyond the very basics of Saix's behavior.

The library is usually a fairly quiet place to be. At times, he sees others there -- Lexaeus and Zexion are never a surprise, sometimes Xemnas when he's being bold, and Luxord seems to prefer to keep himself well read -- but at rarer times, usually when he's _looking _for someone, Axel _will _come.

And when he does, Vexen doesn't hide his reaction; he wrinkles his nose in distaste.

"Looks like Saix's got you confused there, Vexen." Axel, for all that he appears to be blunt and bold, keeps himself well hidden. That's a careful thing to know, it's a note IV keeps tucked away mentally.

"And how are your sessions with Xemnas?" The notebook in Vexen's hand snaps shut.

VIII rolls his shoulders back before shrugging. "What, he doesn't tell you?"

"The results are shared at the very end," Vexen responds stiffly, not discussing the matter further. "What do you want?"

"Aw, Vexen. Don't get your panties in a _bundle_." Axel leans over, tapping the cover of the notebook. "All I'm saying is, you don't know anything."

Vexen snorts. "And you do?"

"Who, me? Well. I've _heard _things, of course." VIII's grin is sharp, and he might as well have been breathing fire. He brings up his index finger, tracing an 'X' shape to his forehead. "Why not try asking the worst question? Being sneaky isn't your style, you know."

"You don't know anything," IV snaps, standing up, as if to leave, "about how I do my work."

"Right, I'm completely _clueless_." Axel still points to his forehead. "You wanna know what I heard?"

The academic says nothing. But that also means he doesn't say "no".

Axel turns around as he starts to leave the library. "I heard, he got tortured. A scar like that's not an accident."

Unlike every other mark on Saix, all from battles, supposedly, this is true, Vexen supposes as Axel leaves.

And he ponders.

---

Puzzles are, of course, left best to Zexion.

While Vexen writes notes and follows Saix when he is available, he still learns nothing. The question VIII suggests is ridiculous and far too soon. It could mean a violent reaction, possibly, from the berserker. It could mean anything. It could mean nothing. There are too many variables. Not enough pieces to actually even be a _decent _puzzle.

It is the first time, Vexen realizes as he sits in Saix's room, that he's ever seen VII dine. He knows, obviously, that the berserker eats, but he's sure to make his own food and keep it all to himself.

He notes Saix's diet choice belatedly in his scribblings.

He asks typical questions. What was the basic life for Aizu? What did Aizu do for a living? What was the terrain like?

But the question -- _the _question -- eats at Vexen.

He imagines scenarios. Ideas, possibilities, all too radical. Vexen's mind wanders, and all of it makes him realize, he truly does know nothing about Saix that could come up with an adequate conclusion. If he knew enough, he could guess far more properly.

"You're staring," Saix says, very simply.

He's hardly startled to realize it himself. "Of course I am. I'm researching you."

"You're staring at me." VII raises a brow and tilts his head. "But your eyes were vacant."

IV snaps the book shut. "We're done for today." He stands to exit, summoning a portal.

"What is it," Saix wonders, "that you want to ask me now, Vexen?"

The scientist thinks to answer and ask at the same time, to get it over with. Instead, he remains silent as he leaves the room.

---

The next time he's in the library, another annoyance plagues him. While Vexen grits his teeth, he's not sure he's infuriated or grateful at the distraction that hovers over him.

Xigbar is, of course, relaxed. In his hands, he fiddles with a strange circluar stone, a sea-blue with carvings in it. It's almost like it could belong to an amulet, but the thought strikes IV somewhat funny. After all, the sniper wouldn't carry something like that around.

He says nothing, but he's there while Vexen scratches words that mean nothing into his notebook, as if to keep his hand occupied and keep himself like he's busy. Xigbar is _there _and the Chilly Academic can hear him tossing the stone up into the air and catching it. Even if he misses, he knows that gravity is easy for Xigbar to ignore and keep it from shattering.

Finally, Vexen puts his pen down, almost slamming it. He turns and gives Xigbar a stare. "What is that?"

"Demyx's." Xigbar tosses it again. "Let me have it for now. I asked 'im if I could take a look at it."

"But _what _is it?"

"Don't know." Xigbar catches after letting it hover in the air for awhile. "I asked the Squirt, but he just gives me that damned smile, you know? Like, whatever, it's no biggy if I wanna take it for a bit, but I know he's itchin' to have it back."

Vexen makes a noise, mostly a bored-sounding one. "What do you want?"

The sniper flips the stone in the air, keeping his eye on it. "Well, other than the obvious?" He grins, like it's an old joke, taps his chest. "Axel says you got puppy problems."

"Axel says a lot of things." Vexen doesn't bother to hide his rolling eyes at the term Xigbar uses.

Pointing at the stone, as if his fingers were a gun, he stops the stone in the air. "Well, think about it. Even if you do ask, what're th' chances he's gonna tell you? Not like Saix tells you anything else." Xigbar catches the stone and holds it out to show Vexen. "Like this. I could ask Demyx everyday 'til we finish Kingdom Hearts, I'll bet you he won't ever tell me. Maybe he made it. Maybe it's his sweetheart's. Hell if I know, but -- anyway, if Saix doesn't want you to know, he's not gonna tell you."

"That was amazingly uninformative," Vexen tells him.

"All I'm _sayin'_," Xigbar pockets the stone, standing up, "is that it's not like you have anything to lose, right?"

From all what very little Vexen knows, no. He supposes he doesn't. But he doesn't admit this to Xigbar.

"Besides. I heard from Axel," and Xigbar grins at Vexen, like he's ready to laugh, ready to tell another bad joke, "that he got that scar from a jealous boyfriend."

---

It comes out, suddenly, while Vexen is checking the berserker's blood pressure.

"And where did you get that scar on your forehead?"

It's silent in the room, even as he instinctively writes his results from physical determinations into his notebook. It's as if Saix didn't even hear him, or maybe he's trying to figure out the best way to decapitate Vexen. Either way, it's quiet.

Ten minutes go by and Vexen is checking his pulse.

"From a man I trusted."

Vexen stops what he's doing, to actually look at Saix in the face, as if he's never done it before.

Usually, the berserker keeps himself guarded. Composed. His face is usually very blank. He isn't smug. Maybe he's not even calm, definitely not annoyed. He doesn't even ever look thoughtful, nor does he pretend to smile and laugh. Saix, for all of the features he has, somehow retains a facelessness.

And yet, his brows are knitted just slightly, as if he's not sure if he can suggest anger or sadness. Saix's lips are tight, unsure.

Vexen could ask why. Why did this man do this? What was the point? Who was he? What did he mean to Saix?

Somehow, nothing like that comes from Vexen. But he smiles, as if this will do for now.

And the notebook shuts.

"We're done for today."


End file.
